“I must have left it on my table upstairs,” she faltered.
“Bring it to me at once,” Bluebeard said, and she was forced to go and make a pretence of searching for it.
When she dared delay no longer, she went to her husband and surrendered the key. He immediately demanded the cause of the stain on it, and she hesitated, at a loss what reply to make.
“But why need I ask?” he shouted. “I know the meaning of it right well. You have disobeyed my commands and have been into the room I ordered you not to enter. So you shall go in again, madam, but you will never return. You shall take your place among the ladies you saw there.”
Fatima fell on her knees at his feet weeping and begging for mercy, but the cruel man had a heart like a stone, and he told her to prepare for death.
“Since I must die,” she said, “at least grant me a little time to say my prayers.”
“I will give you ten minutes, but not one moment more,” Bluebeard responded.
Poor Fatima hastened to a little turret chamber whither her sister had fled in terror and grief. “Sister Anne!” she cried, “go up to the top of the tower and see if our two brothers are coming. They promised to visit me today. If they should be in sight beckon them to come quickly.”
So the sister climbed the narrow staircase that led to the top of the tower. No sooner did she finish the ascent than Fatima called from below, “Anne, Sister Anne, do you see any one coming?”
Anne replied sadly, “I see nothing but the sun shining and the grass growing tall and green.”